Page 62 of Beautifully Reckless

Part of mewantshim to demand it. To pull that submissive side out of me so I don’t have to be the one responsible for admitting to the thoughts running through my head.

But, I also don’t want that to be the foundation of whatever this is between us.

Every time I can’t find the courage to speak my truth, do I really want to rely on him to force it out of me?

No, I don’t want that, so I lick my lips, draw in a calming breath, and shift my gaze to my still exposed baby bump.

“What if… what if I’m making the wrong decision for this baby?” I ask, too scared to look at Ringo. Too scared I’ll find the same uncertainty on his face. “I’m already failing this baby. I should have gotten medical help sooner. He or she is too small. I haven’t fed my baby enough. I haven’t protected it enough.”

This time, I can’t stop myself. I glance at him, and shame hits hard as tears fill my eyes.

He’s already shaking his head, his features softening with a kind of gentleness that cracks something inside me, and he reaches up and brushes his fingers over my cheek, swiping at the salty drops.

“Angel, just the fact that you’re worried about this proves you’re the right person to be this baby’s mum. It’s the good mums that always think they aren’t doing enough.”

A sob slips free as I press my hand to his over my cheek, leaning my head into his touch like I need it to breathe.

“How do you always know exactly what to say?”

He scoffs. “That’s not the right thing to say. That’s just the truth, Abs.”

Abs. I swear I could melt every time he says my name like that.

“Why aren’t you running?” I whisper, and he frowns, sitting taller which puts far too much space between us.

“Why would I need to run?”

I stare at him for a long moment, tears still clinging to my lashes.

Ugh. I’m so sick of crying.

Is it a pregnancy thing? The hormones? Is that why I’m so emotional?

Maybe. Maybe not.

“I’m having a baby,” I deadpan, and he frowns, nodding slowly like he’s struggling to follow my train of thought.

“I know, Angel. I can see that.” His gaze flicks to my bump before returning to my eyes.

“I’m eighteen… and having a baby. A baby that’s a result of being raped.”

He growls, his eyes turning dark with anger.

“I amveryaware, Angel.”

“Then why…” I shake my head, swiping at my cheeks. “I guess I’m just trying to understand what you’re doing here. I mean, I know you’re trying to protect me, and I do appreciate it, but…” I trail off, and he arches a questioning brow.

“Have you already forgotten what I said last night on the rooftop?” he snaps, clearly annoyed with me.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I admit, and he narrows his eyes.

“Are you sure? Because I told you I went looking for you because Icareabout you, Abs.I care.I told you that I crave you.”

“Yes, I know but—”

“But what?”

Jesus. Is he really going to make me say it?

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